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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239671">Knight of Cups, Knight of Swords</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda'>aunt_zelda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Crushes, Fae &amp; Fairies, M/M, Selkies, Tarot, Witchcraft, Witches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Tim who finds him out, of course. Tim’s got wandering eyes and he’s let his gaze linger on Martin far too often. Martin’s glamour is good, but during the waning moon it’s not strong enough to withstand scrutiny to someone with the right eyes. </p><p>“So,” Tim sidles up to him in the break room. “If I ask, does that mean you disappear?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TMA Spooky Gift Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1: Suit of Cups</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SchmokSchmok/gifts">SchmokSchmok</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Loved your prompts and notes! I was very taken by the idea of someone who wasn't Jon being a fantasy creature and ran with that. </p><p>Happy Halloween!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>And only the magic of love dear</i><br/><i>Can ever turn the key</i><br/><i>That unlocks the gates of Faerieland</i> <br/><i>To set the Sidhe folk free.</i><br/><i>- Kathleen Foyle, The Little Good Folk</i></p><p> </p><p>It’s Tim who finds him out, of course. Tim’s got wandering eyes and he’s let his gaze linger on Martin far too often. Martin’s glamour is good, but during the waning moon it’s not strong enough to withstand scrutiny to someone with the right eyes. </p><p>“So,” Tim sidles up to him in the break room. “If I ask, does that mean you disappear?”</p><p>Martin plays dumb, which sadly isn’t hard in the office. “Ask … what?”</p><p>“You know.” Tim waggles his eyebrows. “Like the old stories? If I ask you directly, does that mean you leave and stop making us all cups of tea every day and tidying up in the evenings?”</p><p>Martin jumps back. </p><p>“Hey, hey, relax,” Tim holds up empty hands. “I’m not going to trap you. That’s well beyond my ken.”</p><p>Martin glares. “Say it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What I am. If you really know.”</p><p>Tim sighs. “Fine. Aos sí, right?”</p><p>Martin’s more than a little impressed. Tim’s pronunciation is even correct. “Yes.” He feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. Someone knows. Someone knows and he’s not going to be hurt. </p><p>“Thought so.” Tim smiles to himself like he does when he’s cracked a particularly tricky statement research assignment. </p><p>“How? I … I thought I was careful …” Martin hates how pathetic he sounds. </p><p>“You were! I’m just, well, I know how to look?” Tim scratches the back of his neck. “Mum was uh, well, she knew things, taught me a bit of it. How to see. How to listen. I’m not as good at it as she was, but I can do this and that.”</p><p>“Witch?” Martin blurts out before he can stop himself. </p><p>“If you like.” Tim grins. “Been called worse.”</p><p>The kettle whistles, and when Martin turns back around, Tim’s wandered back to his desk. </p><p>~*~</p><p>Martin is wary for the next few weeks, but Tim doesn’t try anything. He starts noticing things about Tim: a charm necklace kept hidden most of the time, crystals in a desk drawer, the scent of herbs too specific to be typical cologne. </p><p>One day at lunch Tim is shuffling a deck of tarot cards for Sasha. Martin catches a prickle of magic in the air, buzzing at his nerves. He used to get this sense before but didn’t know where it was coming from. Martin struggles to settle himself because if he’s not careful he’ll spoil the milk in the fridge, again. </p><p>“Hey Martin, join us!” Sasha waves him over. “Let Tim do your future!”</p><p>“I could do a looooove reading.” Tim teases. </p><p>Martin frowns sourly at that. “No thanks.”</p><p>“Aw come on Martin, it’s just a lark.” Sasha gives him a playful shove. “Apparently I’m going to get stabbed by a knight soon. Glad I know ahead of time.”</p><p>“That’s not what the card means,” Tim says in the long-suffering voice of someone who’s explained it before and will do so again and again. “A passionate, dedicated woman is going to enter your life and –”</p><p>“Anyways, it’s not like we’re getting any work done until the system’s back online.” Sasha taps her blank monitor. Technology issues are a continual plague on the Institute. </p><p>Martin gives in. </p><p>“Ooooooh,” Tim says dramatically as he lays out the cards for Martin. “What will the cards reveal to us?” Tim affects a spooky tone of voice. </p><p>Tim grasps Martin’s hands over the spread of facedown cards. Martin feels the buzz of magic amplifying. </p><p>“Pick three, and turn them over.” Tim instructs. </p><p>Martin picks three at random. Cups, colors, and figures swim before his eyes.  </p><p>“Interesting!” Tim says, pouring over the little rectangles. “An aloof figure, seemingly unreachable, a desire for love …”</p><p>“Tim,” Martin feels his face heating up. </p><p>“Martin I do believe you’ve got feelings for someone, someone close …”</p><p>“Tim,” Sasha warns, startling Tim from his focus. She nods, pointedly, in the direction of Jon’s office. </p><p>“Oh, Martin,” Tim gives Martin a pitying look. </p><p>“Shut up.” Martin hunches his shoulders. </p><p>“Martin I’m sorry –”</p><p>“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Martin stands up abruptly and goes back to his desk to wait for the system comes back online. </p><p>Later he hears Sasha complaining that the milk’s gone off again. Martin avoids meeting Tim’s eyes for the rest of the day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Suit of Swords</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>My father was the keeper of the Eddystone light</i>
  <br/>
  <i>And he slept with a mermaid one fine night</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Out of this union there came three:</i>
  <br/>
  <i>A porpoise and a porgy and the other was me</i>
  <br/>
  <i>- The Keeper of the Eddystone Light</i>
</p><p>Sasha keeps it close, her true skin. First, bundled up inside her workbag and stowed under her desk. Later, as she becomes more comfortable, used as a lap blanket when the air circulation leans chilly. It helps that she’s almost always hunched over a computer and nobody questions her cuddling under a blanket. </p><p>You have to be good at technology these days to stay properly hidden. Sasha knows it was so much easier in the old days, she was raised on the songs about it. In the old days you could swim up or down the coast and meet an entirely new group of people. Sasha had to edit her birth certificate to list the name of an isolated fishing village rather than the more conspicuous lighthouse that was really where she was born. </p><p>She’s good at what she does, so Sasha is surprised when Tim figures out what she is.</p><p>“I don’t want to alarm you, I just wanted to let you know I know.” Tim says one day when they’re having lunch together. “You don’t need to be so careful about your words around me.” </p><p>For a moment Sasha considers her options. She could laugh it off, feign confusion, pretend she’s got another secret. But she remembers Martin telling her that Tim figured him out, and hasn’t done anything shady or cruel yet with that information. Tim is trustworthy. Tim is reliable. Tim keeps his hands and his magic to himself. </p><p>“Ok.” Sasha says. “Got any questions?”</p><p>“Lots. But I don’t want to be rude.” Tim finishes off his lunch. “Just one thing, to separate the fact from fiction … what would happen if someone took it?” Tim asks. </p><p>Sasha doesn’t need to ask what he means by that.  There’s only one thing people take from selkies. “I’d find them, smash them to the ground, and probably bash their head in.” Sasha says calmly. “You ever seen seals fight, Tim? It’s not pretty.”</p><p>Tim winces and nods respectfully. “Your secret’s safe with me.”</p><p>“Good. It had better be.” Sasha prods him. “I’ve got family on land and at sea. There’s nowhere you could run.” </p><p>“Duly noted.” </p><p>~*~</p><p>The three of them fall into a comfortable rhythm. Sasha and Martin can relax around Tim. Tim can flash a bit more magic around them than he does with other people. The Archives start to thrum with a little more comfort. Sasha feels shielded around them, less scrutinized and prickly. </p><p>After a night in the pub they get Martin to open up about his crush on Jon. Sasha devours his share of fish and chips while Martin squirms. </p><p>“Is it the Fae thing? Honestly Martin I don’t think he’d mind.” Tim says. “He’s accepted the spooky stuff at the Institute, learning Faeries are real shouldn’t be too much for him.”</p><p>“Well, that’s a bit of it.” Martin admits. “And also he’s not exactly, well, one of <i>us</i>.” He says forlornly. </p><p>“You think he’s straight?” Tim barks a laugh. “Martin, nobody in this department is straight. Trust me, I’m good at seeing that.” </p><p>Martin feels a flicker of hope. “But he … he mentioned an ex-girlfriend …”</p><p>“Yeah, and he told me about stuff he got up to at uni. As in, blokes. As in, that’s not gonna be a problem.” Tim taps his chin. “Well, unless all you do is sit there and pine, because he’s absolutely horrible at picking up on signals. You need to be direct with him.”</p><p>“Direct?” Martin pales. </p><p>“Blunt. Forward. Bold.” Tim smirks. “Declare your intentions towards him.”</p><p>“Preferably over food. He needs to eat more.” Sasha says. </p><p>“Not all of us are preparing for deep-sea swims this winter.” Tim points out.</p><p>“Well no, but Jon’s too scrawny even for a normal human.” Sasha shakes her head. “Please, Martin, for all our sakes, date him and make him eat proper meals. I saw him eating ramen like a student on a budget. I know what he’s paid, he can afford better.” </p><p>Martin feels a pang in his heart at that, thinking of Jon eating poorly. He’s obviously not sleeping enough too. He aches to take care of people, something he can blame both his Fae bloodline and his emotionally-abusive mother for instilling in him. </p><p>“Ok, I’ll try. Before year’s end. I promise.”</p><p>Tim waggles a finger at him. “Three times!”</p><p>Martin glares. “Fine. I will ask Jon out by year’s end: I promise, I promise, I promise.”</p><p>Sasha cheers and orders the next round. </p><p>~*~</p><p>The week after Martin’s promise, a monster attacks the Institute. Something that looks human-ish and wails like a child on the Underground for the first time stalks up and down the hallways. It leaves a trail of mold and slime in its wake like an enormous snail. </p><p>The assistants manage to get to safety but Jon was still in his office, taking a statement. They circle back for him, armed with a fire extinguisher (Sasha) a corkscrew (Martin) and a rock-climbing pickaxe (Tim.) </p><p>The monster is banging on the door, wailing. There’s shouting voices coming from Jon’s office. </p><p>“Melanie King’s back today.” Tim mutters. </p><p>“Oh no, they might not even realize what’s happening. They always fight.” Martin groans. </p><p>Suddenly the door bursts open and the monster recoils. </p><p>In the doorway stands Melanie King, brandishing a long knife. Jon is behind her holding an umbrella with shaking hands.  </p><p>“Fuck off!” Melanie yells, lunging at the thing. </p><p>The assistants attack, mostly corralling the monster so Melanie can finish it off. Sasha’s fire extinguisher knocks it down and seems to dehydrate its skin, making Melanie’s strikes all the more effective. Finally the monster stops screaming and flailing and starts to melt into a gelatinous puddle. </p><p>“Alright,” Melanie straightens up, looking to Jon. “You ok, Mr. Nonbeliever?” </p><p>Jon makes a huffing sound of indignation and looks away. “Thank you for the assistance, Ms. King.” </p><p>“Pleasure.” Melanie tosses her hair back and starts cleaning her knife. </p><p>Sasha looks like she’s seen a ghost, but the sexy kind of ghost that belongs on a romance novel cover. “Knight of Swords,” she mutters, heading over to talk to Melanie. </p><p>Martin spots Tim shooting meaningful looks at him and mouthing ‘go!’ while pointing emphatically at Jon behind his back. </p><p>Martin approaches Jon. “Hey, uh, Jon. Want to … get out of here, for a bit?”</p><p>“What?” Jon blinks, shaking himself. “Ah, yes, that sounds … that sounds like a good idea.” </p><p>“There’s a place around the corner that does really great curry?” Martin suggests. </p><p>“Excellent.” Jon fumbles for his coat and steps around the ooze. “Tim, please contact Artifact Storage to come deal with this.” He waves a hand. </p><p>Tim salutes at Jon and then winks at Martin as they leave. </p><p>Jon pauses on the stairwell. “Is this a date?” he asks.</p><p>Martin almost misses the next step. “Uhhhhh … it could be?” he gulps. “I’d like that.”</p><p>Jon stares at him intently. “Yes. I would also like that.” He reaches out tentatively for Martin’s hand. </p><p>Martin, feeling as though his wings might break his glamour any second and cause him to fly, takes Jon’s hand.</p>
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